


Fixing Things Together

by Middle_Earth_NZ



Series: Light up the Dark [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Iron Man 3, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 16:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13485552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Middle_Earth_NZ/pseuds/Middle_Earth_NZ
Summary: Quite a few months after the battle of New York, Steve gets a surprising phone call from one of his teammates which makes him feel more worried than he'd prefer...





	Fixing Things Together

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Fixing Things Together](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/353769) by Middle-Earth NZ. 



Steve was slowly skimming through his sketchbook, considering the pictures he had drawn in the past few months. While after he had woken up from the ice, there had been mostly drawings of his past, there was now a considerable amount of works featuring the present time. Smiling slightly at a drawing of the Manhattan skyline, Steve flipped the page again and ended up staring at the next picture for quite some time. It featured the Avengers, all of them, as they were fighting the army of Chitauri. The background was a detailed image of the destroyed buildings of New York.

Steve sighed as his gaze wandered over the faces of his comrades. He missed them, he realized, missed the way they worked as a team. Of course, Steve did not miss the alien invasion, or the uncertainty if they could save the world from Loki’s madness, or the screams of terrified civilians as they tried to run into safety. Still, it would be nice to see the other Avengers again. Natasha and Clint with their fond bickering, Bruce’s quiet and friendly demeanor, Thor’s loud behavior and Tony’s inexhaustible sarcasm.

With a last glance at the drawing, Steve closed his sketchbook and got up from the couch. He didn’t even know if his friends were still in New York. Thor was probably back in Asgard, Natasha and Clint on some mission for SHIELD. Bruce had a tendency to disappear off the radar as soon as he wasn’t needed, so it was unlikely that he was still in the city. And Tony… Well, Steve had heard about the attack on his Malibu mansion and everything that had followed, but, being the billionaire that he was, Tony had probably plenty of houses all over America, so there was no guarantee that he was currently in his tower in Manhattan.

Steve shook his thoughts off and was just considering making himself a sandwich or two when his cellphone started buzzing on the table. He picked it up and frowned at the unfamiliar number showing on the screen before taking the call. “Rogers,” he answered.

“Hey, Cap,” came the answer promptly. Steve’s frown turned into a surprised smile at the voice. “Tony?” he said, baffled. There was a light chuckle at the other end of the call. “No, it’s the president”, Tony replied sarcastically, and Steve could almost _hear_ the way he rolled his eyes. “Funny, I was just thinking about you,” he said, ignoring the comment.

“Aw, Capsicle, I’m flattered!”

Still, beneath all the teasing, Steve could hear surprise in his friend’s voice. Smiling, he leaned against the kitchen counter and switched the phone to his other hand. “So, what’s going on? How are you doing?”

There was a brief pause, then, “Oh, nothing’s going on, really. Just the usual business stuff, you know. How ‘bout you?”

Steve’s brow creased slightly. While Tony sounded as bright and chatty as ever, there seemed to be something underneath it, like a tension he couldn’t quite get a grip on even though he knew it was there. Besides, Steve hadn’t missed the fact that his fellow Avenger had avoided the question about his wellbeing. Still, after short contemplation, he decided to play along with him. Tony was obviously calling for a reason, and sooner or later he would come to the point. “I’m fine, thank you. A bit bored, though, I have to admit. No missions for quite a while now, so I’m passing my time doing not very much. You know, reading, drawing, exercising…” Steve shrugged even if Tony wouldn’t be able to see it.

There was a pause, long enough for him to wonder whether Tony was still there. He opened his mouth to inquire if he actually was when he heard a shuddering exhale from the other end of the line. “Hey, Steve?” Tony’s voice was serious all of a sudden, uncharacteristically quiet and lacking all the confidence that had been there before.

“What is it? You okay?” Steve replied, his fingers tightening around the phone in worry.

“Can we… talk? I mean, I know that, technically, we’re talking right now but, you know, I mean, _really_ talk, not over-the-phone-talk, if you know what I mean? Well, it’s cool that you’ve finally figured out how to use a phone, congrats there, Grandpa, and I’d totally understand if you didn’t want to-”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted him, his voice gentle. “Of course we can talk. Are you at your tower? I can be there at about seven,” he offered with a glance at his watch. There was a surprised silence, then Tony said, “Yeah, sure, around seven. Okay. Thanks, I’ll… see you there.” The line was cut off, and Steve tapped the red symbol to hang up as well before stowing the phone away in his pocket. He gnawed at his lip in worry as he grabbed his keys and left the apartment.

***

When Steve parked his motorbike in front of the tower, the spring sun was already setting. It hung deeply over the western horizon, casting red light over the city and reflecting in the glass façade of the huge building.

When he headed for the entrance, the translucent doors leading to a large lobby swung open by themselves. Only mildly surprised, Steve stepped inside. It had been a while since he’d been here, but this part of the tower hadn’t changed at all in the last months. Purposefully heading towards the elevator, he started when out of thin air a bodiless voice spoke up. “Welcome to Avengers Tower, Captain Rogers. Mr. Stark is currently awaiting you.”

Steve, quickly recovering from the scare, smiled. “Thank you, Jarvis. Nice to see, er… hear you again.” He stepped into the elevator, waiting for the door to close.

“Likewise, Captain Rogers.”

Steve could have sworn the AI sounded amused.

When the door slid open again in the penthouse floor high up above the city, Steve’s gaze fell instantly upon the tower’s owner who seemed to have been pacing along the impressive window front. At the sound of the elevator opening, Tony came to a halt, a shadow of insecurity ghosting over his face before his trademark playboy smirk took its place. “Capsicle!” he called enthusiastically, approaching him with long strides. “Long time no see,” he continued before Steve was able to return the greeting. “Come on, take a seat! Wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself in your old days, would we?” Tony winked, gesturing to the luxurious couch.

Steve’s lips twitched. In the beginning, ha had found the man’s comments infuriating and rude, but having gotten to know him a little better throughout the Chitauri incident, he had grown quite fond of him. “I’m glad to see you too, Tony,” Steve replied in amusement as he took off his leather jacket, draping it over the back of the couch before sitting down. Still, he was aware that at least half of the other Avenger’s demeanor was probably an act again, a façade to conceal whatever it was that was bothering him.

“Drink?” Tony offered, raising his eyebrows at Steve. When he declined, Tony shrugged, heading towards the bar anyway. “Well, I’m having one.”

Steve watched him as he poured some amber liquid into a glass and joined him on the couch. The rays of the setting sun falling through the windows casted an orange tint over his face, but still there was no mistaking the tiredness in his features. When Steve had last seen him, Tony had been energetic and seemed almost hyperactive most of the time. Now, lines of exhaustion were deeply drawn into his face, and he looked a bit too pale for Steve’s liking.

After Tony had taken a seat, Steve waited for him to speak up, not quite sure what to say himself. His companion, however, seemed uncharacteristically insecure himself now, eyes firmly fixed on his glass and mouth drawn into a thin line.

When the silence started to become tense, Steve cleared his throat quietly. “So, how are you, Tony? You look tired,” he offered carefully.

Tony opened his mouth without looking up, then seemed to change his mind again, taking a sip of whatever was in his glass instead. After a few moments, he eventually spoke up. “I can’t sleep.” His voice was dead-serious and suddenly sounded as weary as he looked. He finally raised his gaze, putting his drink down on the table and running his hands over his face. “Fuck, Steve. I really don’t know what to do anymore.” Tony’s eyes met his, and there was now desperation in the dark brown depths. “I… I go to bed at night, and either I can’t fall asleep at all or I… get those dreams. Nightmares.” Tony got up, starting to pace again. “And eventually, I’ll wake up and…” He made a flailing gesture with his hand and shook his head. Then he laughed nervously, turning to Steve again. “This is so ridiculous, isn’t it? They’re just _dreams_ , right?” His voice was bordering on hysterical.

Steve sighed sadly, shaking his head. “It’s not ridiculous at all. I get nightmares too sometimes in which I relive experiences from the war, you know. I can understand that they are bothering you.” He watched Tony with a sympathetic furrow in his brow as the billionaire nodded, his gaze empty as he stared out the windows.

“They just… feel so real,” Tony mumbled.

Steve hummed in acknowledgement, pausing for a moment. Then he asked carefully, “Do you want to tell me what it is you’re dreaming about?” The following silence made Steve almost wish he had kept quiet and waited for his companion to speak up himself. Eventually, Tony seemed to come to a decision. He turned around, coming back to the table to pick up his drink again. He took a long gulp before returning to his place at the window front once more. “It’s… it’s the Chitauri incident. I just… I just keep on dreaming about the portal, and space, and there’s this huge alien space ship thing, and everything’s so dark, I can’t see anything but the explosion spreading out, and then it feels like I can’t breathe, like there’s no oxygen, like I’m suffocating, like there’s-”

A shattering noise made the both of them jump, and Tony stared down at his hand where his grip had been so tight that the glass had broken, lying in shards at his feet now. Tony was breathing heavily, his gaze unblinking as blood started to trail down his hand.

Steve was on his feet and at Tony’s side in an instant, inspecting the damage. “It’s not deep, but we should get it cleaned anyway.”

Tony didn’t react, instead he just kept breathing raggedly, unmoving.

“Tony?” Steve put a hand on his fellow Avenger’s shoulder, ducking his head to try and get a look into his face. Tony had paled, and somehow Steve doubted it was due to the shock of his sudden injury. “Come on, you should sit down first,” he decided, carefully leading his companion around the shattered glass and guiding him back to the couch. When they were both sitting, Steve took out a tissue, pressing it to the cuts in Tony’s palm and fingers. “Hey, Tony, you still with me?” he then asked carefully, squeezing the other one’s shoulder. That seemed to snap him out of it, and he nodded vigorously, finally meeting Steve’s gaze as he made an obvious attempt to regain control over his ragged breathing. There was still terror in his eyes, and Steve could feel his comrade’s hand shake ever so slightly in his, but Tony finally got a grip on himself. “Shit.” Only now he seemed to notice the blood soaking through the tissue which Steve was still pressing firmly against his hand. “Are you okay?” Steve inquired concernedly.

Tony blinked. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine. Sorry. That’s… kinda awkward.” He laughed hoarsely, his voice sounding a little shrill and shaky.

But Steve shook his head. “It’s fine. It happens.”

Tony frowned at him. “What, breaking a glass or getting a freak-out because of some nightmares?”

Steve shrugged. “Both, I suppose.” He nodded towards the bloody hand. “We should get this bandaged up. Do you have medical supplies somewhere here?”

***

Half an hour later, Tony was prodding at his semi-professionally bandaged hand while Steve got rid of the first aid kit and the used supplies. After washing his hands in the sink of Tony’s bar, he turned to the mess of shards and spilled alcohol on the floor, but Tony stopped him with a wave of his hand. “Leave it. I’ll have it cleaned up later.”

Steve hesitated for a moment but eventually returned to the couch. What followed were a few minutes of comfortable silence until Tony spoke up. “I tried to talk to Bruce too, you know. And to Pepper and to Rhodey. But… they just… I don’t know, they just don’t understand. I guess it’s hard, though, if you haven’t experienced all this shit for yourself, those nightmares and moments of utter terror.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully. In the war, he had been confronted with conditions like this too for the first time. While he couldn’t say he was able to _really_ understand all those soldiers suffering from severe post-traumatic stress disorder or similar things, he could still empathize now that he had learned how to deal with it. “Don’t be mad at them for not understanding,” Steve said. “I’m sure they were trying their best.”

Tony shook his head. “I know. I’m not mad or something. Still…” He met Steve’s gaze sincerely. “Thank you for… for being here, for listening. I still don’t know how to deal with this shit but it feels good to talk about it.” The billionaire stared down at his hands again, probably wracking his genius brain for a way out of his issues.

Out of a sudden impulse, Steve pulled Tony into a hug. “We’ll figure something out, okay?” he said, squeezing the other Avenger gently. He could feel how Tony took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around Steve in return. He nodded against his shoulder and relaxed a little. “Okay. Thanks, Steve…”

“Anytime, Tony, anytime. I promise you, we’ll fix this. Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, I hope you enjoyed my story!  
> English is not my first language, so if anything is amiss, don't hesitate to tell me! ;)


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